Not My Will
*Trigger warning: Miscarriage*
“Father, if thou art willing, remove this cup from me; nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.” Luke 22:42
These words of Jesus happen to be one of my favorite prayers. It’s a prayer that I have repeated many times when I find myself going through suffering of my own. For some reason it brings me consolation to know that even Our Lord, in His perfect goodness, cried out for His suffering to end. Even He wasn’t begging for more of it!
But…BUT…He welcomed it knowing it was the Father’s will.
That’s the hard part, isn’t it? Welcoming suffering. It requires trust. Trusting that God has *actually* got this. Trusting that He does, in fact, work all things together for good for those who love Him. Trusting that He is truly a good Father, that His will is better than my own…even when my will and my desires might be good, too.
Suffering, surrender, trust…these have been major themes of my life this past year and a half. Let me explain.
My husband and I have two beautiful, healthy little boys who we love and adore. I delight so much in being their mom and thank God for blessing us so generously with them. Their laughter can instantly light up any room. Our life is a joyful one with these two precious boys, and yet I have always had a great desire for a “big” family. When people ask how many kids I want, I can never give an answer because I would never want to place a limit on that! Give me aaallllll the kids and a big “Catholic van” to go with it, please and thank you! I firmly believe this desire is from the Lord, and that it is a good and holy desire to bring life into the world. And yet, in May of 2020 just a few weeks after we found out we were expecting to bring new life into the world and add a third child to our family, I had a miscarriage.
”But how could you allow this, God? I know my desires are good…How could this possibly be Your will?”
“Jesus, I trust in You.”
We grieved the loss of our child, who we named Micah James, and we took time to heal and grow in trust of the Lord. Believing He was calling us to try again, in December 2020 we prayed a Christmas novena with surrendered hearts for another baby, and on December 26th we found out I was pregnant again. We were overjoyed! A true Christmas miracle.
I was devastated when a couple of weeks later we lost that baby, too. Jordan Francis. And I don’t think there are words to describe the heartbreak of my third and most recent miscarriage, the loss of our Judah Cyrene.
“Remove this cup from me” – I have prayed this prayer over and over and over this past year and a half. This is the hard stuff, y’all. The stuff nobody wants to go through, the stuff that makes people look at you differently, with eyes full of sorrow for what you’re enduring. This is suffering. And try as we might, none of us will escape it in this life. So why does God allow this incredibly hard stuff? And what do we do with it?
As much as we try to run from it, suffering is necessary for sanctity, for growing in trust and virtue and holiness. Jesus’ suffering on the cross led to salvation and redemption. If it was necessary for even Christ, the Son of God, to suffer in order to enter into His glory, why should we escape it? God is not as concerned with our temporary comfort as much as He is with our sanctity and eternal salvation. How often do we make an idol of comfort! St. Teresa of Jesus says, “Not by ease, nor comfort, nor by honor, nor by wealth can we gain that which He purchased for us by so much blood.” Suffering is hard, and I don’t say that lightly…it’s hard. It also creates space for growth if we allow it.
For me, this period of deep sorrow and suffering has been a clear opportunity to learn to trust God with my whole being. I go back to the prayer of Jesus at the Mount of Olives just before His Passion: “…not my will, but thine, be done.” I don’t know about you, but for me, “Thy will be done” is much easier to pray when it’s separated from the suffering of my own cross. But to willingly take on my suffering, knowing the pain it entails, and to welcome it anyways knowing the Lord would only allow it for a greater good that I can’t even fathom…that builds trust. To trust means to know that despite whatever bad may be happening, you know and believe that He is good, that He loves you, and He is for you.
This is something I must do moment by moment at times. I am far from perfect at it, but I am learning to recognize when my doubts and fears creep in and to reject them with a simple but profound “Jesus, I trust in You.” I’m learning to trust others with my suffering, to allow others to pray with me and for me. I’m learning to offer my own suffering up for the sufferings of another. And finally, I’m learning to allow the Lord to show me the good He is bringing out of my suffering. I have recognized the beautiful gifts I have been given in my three heavenly children. Our family has three little Saints praying specifically for us, interceding for us to the Father. I have three heavenly children who have taught me in ways I had not yet known before of how to trust God and His goodness. And although I would love to hold these sweet babies on this Earth, I am thankful for these children who, because of the suffering I endured for them, have brought me closer to the heart of Jesus.
I don’t know how our story ends. I don’t know if we’ll end up with that Catholic van full of lots of children. And that still hurts. But I trust that He’s got my life in His hands and whatever my future holds, He’s holding my future. And that gives me some peace even now.
Sisters, please know that I am praying for you and whatever cross you may be carrying right now. Maybe it’s a cross you’ve recently taken on, or maybe it’s one you’ve been carrying for a long time. Whatever your sufferings may be, I pray the Lord reveals His goodness to you and draws you closer to His most Sacred Heart. I pray for His peace over your life. He is for you. He loves you. Never forget that.
This blog post was written by Natalie Mollman, Oklahoma Catholic Women’s Conference Promotion Chair.